The Whole Megillah by Howard Engel Read Free Book Online Page B

are your rates, Mr. Cooperman? I’m not promising anything, but I’d like to think over the possibility.’
    I told him the numbers, which didn’t make him fall over, and asked him how I could get hold of him.
    â€˜I’m a moving target these days,’ he said with a schoolboyish grin. ‘Best you tell me how to get hold of you.’
    I didn’t like the idea of telling anybody where I was staying. And it wasn’t just because I was trying to save Sam’s carpet from bloodstains. But with the smell of a new client in the air, I broke down and gave him the phone number but not the address.
    Lowther made a note and then extended his hand. ‘I’m going to be in court a lot during the next few days, but I’ll get in touch if I think there’s something you can do for me.’
    We parted. He started down the stairs. I walked to the back room and climbed down the rear stairs just in time to see Lowther walking through the door and out into the street with his paper. I waited thirty seconds and followed, crossing the street at the intersection.
    From the north side of Bloor, I could see him working his way through the heavy pedestrian traffic around the Brunswick House. A jazz group was playing in the upper space called Albert’s Hall. Lowther got through the crowd without having to take to the pavement. He crossed to my side of Bloor. At the corner of Bloor and Walmer, he ducked into a doughnut store and came out with a white paper bag. I followed him up Walmer, which twisted in an ‘S’ curve to a small park islanded in the middle of the road. From a bench with an old man feeding the pigeons, I watched Lowther go into the condominium where Honour Griffin lived. I checked inside the front door a few minutes after Lowther had passed through: there was no name remotely like Lowther’s on the directory. I rang the bell beside Honour’s name and heard Lowther’s voice ask ‘Yes?’ before I returned to the park bench and the pigeons.
    Lowther was still looking for the megillah. Did that clear him of the murder? I wasn’t sure. Although the murder may have occurred because Moore interrupted an attempted theft, I wondered who would have tried to steal a book that had already been stolen?

 
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    Chapter Seven
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    That night, Anna and I dined quietly in a place she knew on Harbord. It was an Italian restaurant called Porretta’s. On the wall were prints by Salvador Dali of dissolving landscapes and watches--puns in paint that take a lot of looking at.
    â€˜But you’re not giving up?’ Anna asked. It was more a statement than a question. ‘Nobody’s paying you for the work you’re doing.’
    â€˜Moore gave me a little to get started on.’
    â€˜You’re not facing it, Benny. Your client is dead.’
    â€˜This fellow Lowther might hire me. He wants the megillah bad enough. I could see it in his face. And then there’s Dalton. He might drop a few bucks my way. He can afford them.’
    â€˜The point is, can you afford to go on putting your neck on the line on the chance that somebody’s going to pay you?’ She tilted her head and quizzed me over the top of her dark-rimmed reading glasses.
    â€˜Anna, to be honest with you, I feel I owe it to Moore to give this some of my own time.’
    â€˜But you told me you weren’t even sure he was being straight with you!’
    â€˜I know, I know. I’m a tangle of contradictions. Tell me about it. If I could change my spots, Anna, I would have a long time ago. What can I tell you? I feel a debt. It won’t go away, so I’m working it out. Maybe that will make me feel better. This is very good spaghetti,’ I added, just to change the subject.
    â€˜I’ll never figure you out, Cooperman. But I’ll keep on trying.’ Anna was looking lovely sitting there across the table from me. She was in a dark blue dress with